


Failed Interventions

by betp



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-04
Updated: 2013-01-04
Packaged: 2017-11-23 15:16:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/623588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betp/pseuds/betp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is used to people thinking Derek is bad for him. He isn't really used to people thinking he's bad for Derek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Failed Interventions

Things change. They change rapidly and they change abruptly and they change completely. Stiles knows this first-hand. He knows that one day you could wake up and simply not have a mother anymore. He knows that one minute you're having fun sneaking around with your bestie in the woods and the next you're being driven home and condescended to while your bestie gets attacked by a supernatural creature. He knows that one second you're perfectly fine and the next you're head over heels in love with an alpha werewolf. Shit happens, okay, things change.

When Stiles first kissed Derek, they were both bleeding out, Isaac was already unconscious, and the three of them were locked up together in a gigantic, industrial freezer. Stiles was ninety-nine percent sure he was going to die in there, so he threw caution to the wind. "Odds are good we won't make it out," he told Derek, and Derek nodded woodenly, like he'd known all along he wouldn't get to live past twenty-two, but he looked terrified all the same. "And in light of that," Stiles added, and then he got up on his knees. Leaned over and kissed Derek, hands cupping his face, lips chapped, body still releasing these spasms of aborted shivers; he'd long since stopped shivering normally. Scott saved them not two minutes later, prying the heavy doors open with a desperate roar, because Isaac was in there and Stiles was in there and except for his mother, there's no one else Scott cares about more. You know, aside from the rest of the world.

Derek and Stiles avoided each other's eye for a day or two and then Stiles skipped school to go to the ruined Hale house and lose his virginity to him, which: not all things change; this has never been something Stiles regretted.

And after that, things happened that Stiles expected a hundred percent. Everyone, even Derek's packmates, told him Derek was Bad and Wrong For Stiles, told him he was too old for him, told him didn't it strike him as weird that he was so willing to have sex with a seventeen-year-old, told him he was weird and possessive and dangerous, told him Stiles could have his pick, so why did he pick Derek, and Stiles would just make eye contact and say, "That's right. I picked Derek," and let it sink in before he smiled grimly and got up and left to go do something else, something that didn't involve unwarranted sexual advice from people who never gave a damn about him until Derek started getting on his knees for him on the reg.

And eventually Stiles graduated from high school, started going to college, and they all stopped pulling Stiles aside to tell him to cut the shit and date other people.

But like I said: things change.

The fundamentals are still the same: Stiles likes Derek. Stiles likes turning people down at college parties and telling them he's "seeing someone," pointing out Derek (if he came) and watching their faces go slack with the knowledge that _no one_ can compete with that. Stiles likes sneaking out before dawn on Derek's birthday and waking him up with a surprise blowjob, because Stiles is kind of addicted to the taste of Derek's come. Stiles likes Christmas eve, while the sheriff stealthily puts socks and novelty playing cards into a stocking for Stiles in the living room, Derek hops into Stiles' room through the window and they give each other joke gifts and then make out until one or both of them falls asleep.

The fundamentals are still the same: everyone but Derek, Stiles, and Erica continue to hate Derek and Stiles together. People still make unnecessary grimaces whenever they look at each other (which is ridiculous because they aren't always _staring lustfully_ or whatever; sometimes it's purely innocuous and everyone gets ruffled anyway). People never invite both of them places; just one at a time. Scott continues to subtly try to set Stiles up with other people.

The thing that changed is their treatment of Derek. Boyd and Derek are best friends now; if Stiles can't reach Derek, he texts Boyd. Isaac treats Derek like some kind of father figure. Runs to him whenever he panics about a dumb thing, because Derek is good at gruffly talking him off the ledge, so to speak.

Which Stiles is happy about until he finds out what they say to him when they're with him and without Stiles.

Derek comes home irritated one day, which—not a hundred percent unusual for a guy as optimistic and fun-loving as Derek tends to be, but he comes home _particularly_ irritated and Stiles, who has a key to the place and is playing WoW on the sofa, stops playing WoW on the sofa for the occasion. "What's wrong, baby?" he asks, because he likes to get gooey and disgusting when Derek is unhappy. Which is a lot.

Derek gives him a sidelong glare: par for the course. "Just play your weird gnome game," he snaps, gesturing to Stiles' laptop, still with WoW on the screen. Stiles cocks an eyebrow. Nudges the laptop shut and pushes it onto the coffee table.

"What's wrong," he says.

"Nothing," snaps Derek. After a moment, he grumbles, "Getting sick of everyone's little _interventions_. At _first_ I just blew them _off_ , but—"

"What interventions," Stiles interrupts. "Are you drinking or something, because I _seriously_ can't handle more than one drinking problem in the family." This sentence comes out without his policing it—an unfortunate side effect of trusting someone else with everything in him—but he manages to make it sound less vulnerable and more flippant, so score one for the Stilinski Trust Issues.

Derek, blessed be his innate understanding of Stiles, comments on none of this. "You know what interventions," he says instead, frustrated. "Smarmy, condescending concern, hand on my elbow. Frowning and shaking their heads when I get pissed off, like they're somehow _disappointed_ in me for being pissed off about them insulting someone I've been dating for four damn years."

"Wait," Stiles says, nettled. " _Who's_ insulting me."

"Allison thinks I'm 'settling,'" Derek grumbles, more to himself than to Stiles. "Isaac's decided you're 'controlling' and 'manipulative.' Think I'm not gonna be mad about that crap." He scoffs.

Wounded, Stiles sinks into the couch cushions. It's all _true_ , of course, but he had no idea people were lecturing Derek about it. Was he really so big a problem that all Derek's friends felt the need to _intervene_? Worse, Stiles thought he and Isaac were friends. It stings a _lot_.

"And _Lydia_ ," Derek bursts out, voice high and angry. "Tries to tell me you're _mean_ to me. Like I really consider _Lydia_ to be the authority on good taste in men and healthy fucking relationships."

Lydia! _Lydia_ is Stiles' friend. Or so Stiles thought. He has that stupid prickling sensation in his nose. Flattens his mouth into a tight-lipped pout to stop his lips twitching. "Well, you know, I _do_ mock you all the time. To your face," Stiles tells him matter-of-factly, trying to mask the throaty, choked tone to his voice. "And I call you names. And I get off on tying you up."

"Stiles, I _really_ don't need you playing devil's advocate right now," Derek says sharply, and Stiles snaps his mouth shut, eyes stinging.

"I'm sorry," Stiles says sincerely.

The room rings, silent.

It's a little chilly in the house. Stiles weaves his fingers together between his knees.

Bites his lip.

"Stiles," Derek says, and Stiles gets up from the couch.

"No, it's cool, I've got some, uh. Studying to do?"

Derek grabs his wrist as he passes, tugs. "Stiles. You _were_ playing devil's advocate. Weren't you?"

"Got a test," Stiles says. "Gotta keep my grades up."

" _Stiles_."

" _Derek_ ," Stiles says back. Rolls his eyes, smirks mirthlessly. "Come on. Tell me—look me in the _eye_ and tell me they aren't kinda right." Derek's mouth twists, to speak, but Stiles goes on firmly, " _I'm not telling you_ what decisions to make. Or to be—like, _grateful_ for their weird, surplus advice or what have you. I’m _just saying_." He shrugs, pulls out of Derek's grip. "Something to think about."

"Great," Derek says angrily, grabbing Stiles' arm again. "Because I've just been making love to you on autopilot for _four years_. You _moron_."

"Doing _what_ ," Stiles says, scowling and going vibrantly red in the face. "To _me_? If anyone's been making love to anyone, it's from me to y—" Pulled by Derek, Stiles flops gracelessly into his lap with a muted swear.

"I have never once had to reassure you," Derek tells him, frowning. "Why the sudden insecurity."

"Because you could have anyone," Stiles says simply. "I don't really question why you _like_ me. Maybe you have a type. Maybe you have a thing for _sarcastic assholes_ , maybe I charmed you with my _sparkling wit_. Whatever. But I _definitely_ don't get why you _love_ me."

"It isn't because of your sparkling wit," Derek says drily. "Can't you trust my judgment? Just this once."

"Uh. No?" Stiles squints at him. " _Last_ time I trusted your judgment, Boyd ended up in Arizona, incommunicado, for a _month_."

" _Two weeks_ ," Derek snaps, "and it turned out better than fine in the end, didn't it?"

"Maybe for _you_ ," says Stiles, but before either of them can bicker some more, Derek hooks his hand around the back of Stiles' head and reels him in for a kiss, which Stiles reciprocates with a hand fisted in the front of Derek's bloodstained t-shirt.

"Screw the people who don't like you," Derek says when they break apart. He holds Stiles' gaze for a long minute, hand huge and hot on Stiles' face, thumb on the ridge of his cheekbone.

"I already did that," Stiles says with a poke to Derek's chest, "and it made him kinda like me. Should I try that with Lydia and Isaac? Will it work?"

Derek rolls his eyes. "Let's not find out." Stiles gets off his lap, and Derek follows him to the door.

"I'll see you later," Stiles is saying. "I really do have a test. It's in calc, so I'll probably pass it, but Dad can't afford me losing my scholarship, so I don't really want to risk it. Don't forget about dinner, though." He gets into the unlocked Jeep, rolls down the window.

"Stiles," Derek calls right before the engine starts. Stiles pokes a head out the window. "Because you're funny and hyperactive and you get me," he says. After a second, understanding flickers into Stiles' eyes, and whatever crimson pleasure that's faded since they kissed comes back tenfold.

Derek shuts the door before he can get distracted by Stiles' small smile. If he didn't, he'd probably go over and take his mouth and try his darnedest not to propose marriage right then and there.

Which is something that will never change.

**Author's Note:**

> Sarcastic assholes? More like sarcassholes. ~~End my life~~.


End file.
